


30 Days of Steam Powered Giraffe In 100 Words

by RaccoonMama



Category: Steam Powered Giraffe
Genre: Angst, Challenges, Fluff, Gen, Wordcount: 100, sap
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-08-31
Updated: 2012-09-05
Packaged: 2017-11-13 05:41:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/500113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaccoonMama/pseuds/RaccoonMama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>30 day SPG fic challenge, with each fic being 100 words long. Each chapter will be five "days" long and will involve various characters from the SPG universe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day 1-5

**1\. Song**

At last, the Jon just curled up, sobbing into his sleeve, copper curls falling down around his head, the whole of his little brass frame wracked with horrible tremors.

He cried until his sobs became dry hiccups from his voice box, shaking until his plating rattled, until finally, he filled up his bellows and he sang. “Here I go again: I'm breaking up, I'm shutting down now. Inside, outside, decommission... wonder if it's painful. Reading love and writing love, technically the same. I am not a living thing... I am not a human being... but I'm alive. I'm alive.”

* * *

**2\. Broken**

His hands lingered over the shards of glass, thin frame shaking. The Spine had been capable of independent movement long enough at this point not to make silly mistakes like this, but now he feared this bout of inadvertent, childish clumsiness would be the end of him.

He didn't lift his head when Peter Walter I came around the corner and knelt quietly beside him, gazing at the large photograph of Delilah, its frame completely shattered. “I'm just glad this didn't land on you, my boy,” he teased gently. “A frame can be replaced. A son never can.”

* * *

**3\. Death**

There were no words fitting. Peter Walter III could only sit in silence, staring at the still frame of Rabbit, the automaton's chest ripped wide open and all that made him the loving, silly robot he had always been torn from him in a single act of jealousy and greed.

He had ultimately done his best to try to ensure the other robots felt little in the way of fear or distress, but they continued to press one question: where did robots go when they died? He feared he would never have their answer. Rabbit would never be the same.

* * *

**4\. Upgrades**

He started out with just one or two. Little abandoned dress up dolls found in consignment shops, their bodies meticulously painted pink, little details painted on in black, hair cut and dyed. Michael had even helped him make the dresses for them. It made him feel better, having them.

Now he had a collection of them. Little Upgrades with their little smiles and posed in her quirky little ways, some powered down, some in singing poses. The Jon sighed. She had left to follow her dream of becoming a princess. No one had the heart to tell him the truth.

* * *

**5\. Giraffes**

She may not be in battle anymore, but she was still kept rather fit. Steve was proud of how well he managed Delilah's upkeep, for all the giraffe was several stories taller than a regular one. He did have the assistance, of more... “enhanced” agility and strength, of course, but that was his little secret.

He smiled, giving her a pat when she lowered her long neck so she could accept a pat to her shiny steel nose, snuffing comfortably hot steam around him. There were very good things to be said about being a half dragon some days.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Days 6-10.

_**6\. Peter** _

They were his uncles. His family. They were as much a part of him as the mansion, the many bizarre things in it, and even the legacy he'd been handed. They were so nervous some days, laying together on a couch, interacting with their human bandmates, sometimes speaking to no one for hours.

And then there were times where he would be pulled in to sit with them, their heavy frames pressing into him tightly, and Peter Walter VI couldn't help but feel safe for the moment, the most recent in a proud legacy he wouldn't trade for the world.

* * *

_**7\. Magic** _

It wasn't real magic.

The Spine was certain of this fact, though he wasn't going to argue with his entranced brothers. They watched the man in the park as he produced doves from his hat, flowers from thin air, massive expanses of bright colored rags from his sleeve.

All things considered, though, he could definitely see the appeal in such showmanship. Smiling, he gave a nod when the man in the crisp white suit caught his gaze, and the man smiled back. It wasn't real magic, but in the hands of a true showman, it was the whole of creation.

* * *

_**8\. Steam** _

Rabbit was fascinated in watching his creator work, pacing to and fro as he followed Col. Walter throughout the workshop, occasionally darting back to take a close look at the shiny steel frame of his new brother.

When the new automaton opened glowing green eyes, he found himself staring at his older brother, who was rather close to his face, and as he opened his mouth for the first time, steam drifted toward the ceiling.

“Hello, new brother!” Rabbit chirped before he could speak. “My name is Rabbit. We're gonna be the best of friends, you and me.”

* * *

_**9\. Music** _

The music was not always the robots'. Sometimes the trio would sneak down when their humans practiced, and today, Michael was the target. He sat in his room with his banjo, eyes closed as he composed another new song, never needing to write down what he knew in his head.

They were unaware he knew of their presence, and that he always kept track of every time one of them had peacefully powered down listening, comforted. If music was their souls, it was his own life's blood, and together with Sam and Steve, they kept old Colonel Walter's dream breathing.

* * *

_**10\. Band** _

These were roles that had been filled by many other humans through so many years. This time, though, the robots seemed to warm to them much quicker. The Spine would sit with Sam for hours, sometimes in silence, sometimes in laughter, always as friends.

As for Steve, he knew as well as Michael that they would be there much longer than their fine mustachioed friend, and they kept trying to think of ways to prevent the inevitable. For the first time since the early days, the robots had a band they loved, and they wanted to keep it that way.


End file.
